A Different Kind of Evil
by ForensicGeek2
Summary: The Finale Battle has been won- not without blood spilt on both sides. Students have returned to Hogwarts to complete their education and Draco Malfoy intends to save Ginny from a different kind of evil, one that she doesn't know of. AU Lucius Malfoy died in the Finale Battle. One shot written for Lamia's daily speed-writing competition "I want to see a Thestral." / "No, you don't"


**Disclaimer**: None of this is mine. Real sorry to shock you all there, but I couldn't hide it anymore.

**A/N: **Well, I've joined several challenges so you can expect plenty more fanfics coming up! Please take a seat, grab a cuppa, and enjoy!

**Written for Day 9 of the Return of the Daily Weird Prompt Thing [Speed-writing Competition] by Lamia of the Dark!**

**Prompt chosen:** "I want to see a Thestral." / "No, you don't"

* * *

Draco Malfoy was often a lot like Lucius Malfoy. Both proud Slytherins, their platinum blonde hair and cold features chilling, with their snarky personalities- one could not mistake the resemblance. That is, if Lucius Malfoy had been curious- but he wasn't. Lucius Malfoy wasn't curious, so Draco never really saw eye to eye with his father. Now he never could.

Lucius Malfoy had died in the Final Battle- nothing more to say.

* * *

_"Father?" _

_"Yes, Draco?"_

_"Have you ever seen a Thestral?"_

_"Yes, Draco."_

_"I want to see a Thestral." _

_"No, you don't."_

_"Why not, Father?"_

_"To see a Thestral one must have seen death."_

_"Who have you seen die, Father?" _

_"You wouldn't know them... Now stop asking questions and go back to your studies!"_

_"Yes, Father."_

* * *

Draco now knew that the question should have been 'Who have you killed, Father? Who have you tortured? Why were you in so deep? Did the lives of your wife and son mean nothing to you?'

It had been four months since the Finale Battle, and he and his mother had been under house arrest the whole time. The only reason he was leaving now was to complete his Hogwarts education.

Draco had seen death- when his mother paced the halls (waiting for his father to come back to them), countless innocent slaughtered at the Final Battle, when his godfather had fulfilled a task he could not commit- and he knew if he so desired he could see a Thestral. Why was that not as appealing anymore? Why was it not as glamorous as it had been when he was seven years old?

Draco walked by the Black Lake on that first night back, pondering. That had been his father who had died, yet not a tear could be spared on Draco's part. He wondered if that made it better or worse; knowing his mother sobbed in a too-large bedroom behind locking and silencing charms while he went on with his life.  
He thought it made it worse.

Draco stopped suddenly at the sound of branches cracking behind him. When he heard it again, he whirled around, wand already drawn.  
There it was- the beast Draco had always been curious about, the one he had dreamed about seeing. The Thestral was inches away from his face, and he could feel the animal's breath on his cheeks. The creature cocked its head at him, as though equally curious about him.

He took a step back, and was about to take another when a voice stopped him.

"Running, are we?" His head snapped to the left where Ginny Weasley stood.

"Running from a...what is that?" Draco didn't answer at first; he knew the fiery woman beside him would soon figure out what the skeletal creatures were. Draco's chest tightened painfully; as beautiful as the creatures were, he hadn't wanted Ginny to see them. He hadn't wanted Ginny to see death. He didn't know why he thought she might be spared, might not have to see a body tumble upon itself or breathing halt. Why had he expected that after the Battle of Hogwarts? He did not know. No one there had escaped death, be it in form of their own life or their innocence.

"A Thestral." He replied, and stalked away without another word.

Now that Ginny had seen death, he felt that part of her sweet innocence would be tainted, it was lost. He didn't know what to say her- he was sorry didn't even begin to cover it. But he was, she'd just never know. Draco Malfoy had harboured feelings for the younger witch since the Yule Ball, but he refused to act on those feelings. Even though he was dead, Lucius Malfoy still whispered words into his ear, words of blood-traitors and of mudbloods. He did not believe it, for he had seen blood on everyone that night, and to him it all looked the same. However he did believe that maybe he could protect Ginny from a different kind of evil- the kind that was a proud Slytherin, with platinum blonde hair and cold features chilling, and with a snarky personality. The kind that was often a lot like Lucius Malfoy.

~fin~


End file.
